“He asked about you.”
My pulse thunders in my ears as my breaths come faster, and the tingles turn into a loud buzz. I don’t know what’s happening. It’s like I’m losing control, and I don’t know why.
“He’s worried,” Dad says gently.
Hot tears prick the back of my eyes, and suddenly, everything hits me.
Half thoughts and messy feelings crash into me all at once. Every single one of them is competing to be heard, but only some are loud enough to get through.
He left. He didn’t want me. He didn’t care. Leaving was always part of his plan. I’m nothing. He hates me.
But I also know that’s not true. Iknowthat Iknowit’s not like that… but I can’t believe it. Because those thoughts are whispering while the others are yelling, and I can’t hear anything else. No matter how hard I try.
Dad’s grip tightens around my arm, and I close my eyes, trying to focus on the pressure moving through me and trying to listen to the whispers.
“He’s going to be working on the farm full time…” Dad says. “For two years.”
My chest hurts, and my heart thuds so loud it drowns out any thought or feeling I could even try to hang on to. I blink back my tears and try my hardest to find my voice and say something. Anything. But my muscles won’t work, and my mouth stays closed. My hands shake, my eyes squeeze shut, my breaths come fast and shallow, and it’s as if the entire world is closing in on me.
Everything I’ve ever felt rises to the surface, crashing over me and swirling around like my own brain is taunting me. Likeit’s teasing me, telling me to reach for something and see what happens, knowing it’s only going to pull me under even more.
It’s so overwhelming, I bend over and bring my hands to my head as I gasp for air, wanting it all to just stop.
Dad appears on the floor in front of me, his hands gripping my arms tight. “You’re safe,” he murmurs.
And tears start streaming from my eyes.
I don’t know what’s happening. What the fuck is happening…
My fingers dig into my head as I grip it hard and squeeze my eyes shut so tight I see stars. My heart feels like it’s going to explode, and I’m not ok. I’m not ok. Fuck.
“It’s alright, Silas.” Dad’s voice sounds far away, and I can barely feel his grip on me. “Breathe with me, bud. Right here… it’s ok.”
Slowly, the sensations of his hands on my arms return, and the crushing pressure in my chest subsides, just enough for me to open my eyes and meet his.
“Breathe,” he says quietly with a gentle nod, and tears trickle down my cheeks as I look into his eyes.
He’s done this with me more times than I can remember. When I was little, and as I got older… usually before I had to go to Mom’s. But this hasn’t happened in a long, long time.
“This is just panic,” he says. “Your body’s acting before your thoughts can catch up.”
My gaze falls to my lap, then I close my eyes, and my body continues to buzz as my heart races.
I hate it. I hate that I act this way… I don’t want to act this way…
“I know this is a lot,” Dad continues. “You have a lot of history with him.”
I swallow hard and nod.
“Yeah. And…” Dad pauses, and I look up at him.
I need him to keep going. I need answers. I need to know it’s going to be ok, I’m going to be ok, and he’s going to be ok. He always has to do this with me… and I hate that I keep putting him through this shit.
Dad gives me a soft smile that immediately pushes those fears back a bit.
“You’ve held this for a long time, and… I think it’s probably bringing up some feelings around other things too. Things we know, and things we don’t know… Your brain has a hard time sorting past from present.” Dad’s eyes flick between mine like he’s assessing me to see if I understand what he’s saying.
Unfortunately, I do.
